


A Desire You Won't Name

by Eyrdamun



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 23:59:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12736926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eyrdamun/pseuds/Eyrdamun
Summary: Akira Kurusu just had Akechi's desired body type, that was all.





	A Desire You Won't Name

**Author's Note:**

> Akechi's name was changed from Goro to Kazuko due to the kanji spelling.
> 
> -> I drew f!ver [AkeShu](https://twitter.com/marudyne/status/930593760542691328) and the kink meme prompt is [here](https://personakinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/993.html?thread=678113#cmt678113)

“Kazuko.” A pale finger traced the name, the characters for only child, on Akechi’s chest. The alarm rang loudly and roused Akechi from her fitful dream.

 

She had dreamt for days, nights, of curly hair pretending to be tamed in braids, of pale skin and grey eyes veiled by long dark lashes. In her dreams, there had been no glass wall separating them and the passion hidden behind the grey storm still roared underneath Akechi’s skin.

 

She stood slowly, unsurely. There was a coiling tension in her gut.

Trying to shake off the feeling, she washed her face and applied her make up- painting over all the tiny blemishes and imperfections with foundation and concealer first, a light rosy blush second with a light hint of mascara and soft barely glossy pink lipstick.

 

The girl in her dreams hadn’t been wearing make up. She hadn’t been wearing anything, straddling her lap, smirk blooming as she arched her body obscenely above Akechi and -

 

“Do you want this?”

 

Outside her bedroom window, the sky was clouded over with Autumn’s approach. If Akechi looked like her, she would be able to save time every morning.

 

* * *

 

Akira Kurusu was gorgeous. Her fluffy hair, her clear eyes, pouty lips… Talking to her whenever they met at the train station never ended well. Akechi always stared too long when the Shujin student moisturized her lips with a flick of a tongue, eyes caressing the figure hidden underneath a school uniform that did its best to conceal the silhouette it cloaked.

 

Kurusu was adept at hiding her beauty and fading into the shadows of crowds but Akechi had the eyes of a bird of prey, she could see the swell of her breasts and of her derriere as clear as day.

 

“Akechi-chan?” Kurusu’s soft voice broke Akechi out of her reverie.

 

“My apologies, it seems I spaced off for a second there.”

 

Kurusu nodded, eyelids slowly dropping as she looked down. Kurusu was only an inch or two shorter than her, but the vantage point still gave the illusion of her eyelashes caressing her cheeks. Maybe it wasn’t an illusion.

 

Akira Kurusu was really gorgeous, Akechi felt a snake of an emotion slithering and curling up her spine to her tongue.

 

“My train is here, I must go,” she excused herself without waiting for Kurusu’s goodbye.

 

* * *

 

It all got worse when Akechi “joined” the Phantom Thieves. Kurusu Akira was beautiful, but when she donned Joker she was outright temptation.

 

The black trench coat trailed behind her as she sashayed across Shadow infected corridors, the black leather pants caressing her legs and the heels elongating them-  Crow had to remind herself too often to look away from strong leather covered thighs. She didn’t fare any better by focusing on Joker’s face. Then, her gaze would trail to the wild and free night-inked curls that danced to the rhythm of her walk.

 

A lot of Joker reminded Crow of poison. A lot of Joker seemed like smoky tendrils that threatened to wrap around her limbs and pull her close, catch her, cage her, and the last thing she would see would be a beautiful pale face framed by black before it sank its teeth into her pulse and fed.

Even in the midst of battle, Crow couldn’t help it. This was jealousy, the detective was certain, this was green want. This was the sight of Joker standing tall and smirking in front of a fallen enemy, a cutting silhouette becoming of a siren that lured its prey to its downfall and prepared itself to feast. 

“Crow, take care of the other one.”

 

Her voice was a battle high song deeper than the sea she’d drag her enemies under, and the juxtaposition of her unhindered speech with the Akira Kurusu of Tokyo made Crow almost lose her footing. For a split second, Crow thought that she was Joker’s prey herself.

 

“Leave it to me!”  
  
She hoped that the pause between Joker’s order and her reply hadn’t been too prominent. Though, she figured, she didn’t need to worry much. The Phantom Thieves didn’t seem to really pay her any mind.

 

In fact, they paid so little attention that Mona fumbled into Crow, which in turned led her to be hit by a curse spell.

 

As if she hadn’t been cursed enough already.

 

Queen swiftly took down the enemy in her place, Joker yelling at Mona in the background to heal as she stalked towards the fallen thief and the day couldn’t get any worse than that very moment. Her luck, however, decided to quickly prove her wrong.

 

The cat creature left with Queen to pillage the remains of the shadows they defeated and Joker kneeled by her side with a graceful bow.

 

It made Crow want to shove her to the ground.

 

“Are you alright?” Joker asked as she extended a hand to her fallen comrade.

 

Crow took it. “Yes. Although, I must admit that I do feel a bit dizzy.”

 

The leader’s smirk turned into a tender smile that the detective focused on. Lifting both of them to their feet and using her empty red gloved hand to steady Crow by the waist, she hummed.

 

“As far as I know, no curse spell should be able to do that,” Joker spoke as she stood close, too close, and Crow still couldn’t tear her eyes away from the too full lips -oh, her lower lip was split- as she continued speaking. “I have something I could give you if it feels too bad.”

 

Joker licked her lips to moisturize them and winced as her tongue passed over the wound. She said something after that but the detective didn’t hear it over the sound of her heart pounding and her blood flowing in her veins.

 

She felt so dizzy.

 

Joker’s arm now wrapped itself around her waist as she let go of Crow’s hand to place it over her cheek and took off the red long nosed mask. Her brows furrowed, the wound on her lip painting her a predator that just fed and highlighting the white of Joker’s teeth as her mouth moved.

 

“Crow?”

 

She was being called, she had to answer.

 

Crow took Joker’s face in her hand with surprising speed and she replied to the beckon.

 

Chest to chest, Joker’s lips were soft against hers and the taste of copper, of danger, sent a bolt of lightning down the detective’s spine. The kiss didn’t last long, the action registering moments after it was taken and Crow pulled away.

 

“My… apologies.”

 

The words were lead on her tongue, and only the copper in her mouth disguised the taste of the toxin. They disentangled themselves awkwardly and continued on with their exploration of mementos without speaking another word.

 

* * *

 

Kurusu let Akechi call her Akira in her dreams. Her lips as soft as they were during the mistake of a kiss that Crow-not Akechi- gave the thief, but the blood was sometimes missing.

 

“Kazuko,” Akira whispered.

 

Akechi skinned Akira with her tongue. Just as she arrived to the peak of her breast, just as her mouth closed around a nub and teeth sank on the flesh to take- it had to be to take, it couldn’t be any other reason for these debauched visions of melting against, _into_ her- Akechi’s alarm rang.

 

She woke up to a world where Akira was a name that wasn’t hers and whose taste she couldn’t savour.

 

* * *

 

After they conquered the second floor of the casino, and all the Phantom Thieves dispersed save for Akechi and Kurusu, Akechi invited herself into Kurusu’s home for a cup of coffee. Nothing more, nothing less. The detective shrugged off any implications of Morgana leaving with Futaba, because trust should be the last thing in their minds.

 

It was masochism, the way the detective still spent time with the object of her envy, who was now clad in an apron over her school uniform as she skillfully brewed coffee.

 

The echoes of the thief calling her “honey” whispered in her skull, and she wanted to reach out and undo the bow on her back. She wanted to pull and rip it off, a gift that wasn’t a gift and much less for Akechi’s eyes and hands, but she wanted anyway.

 

The desire felt claustrophobic and asphyxiating.

 

It was rising, like liquid in a glass cage that would drown her and the thoughts of sweetness, poison, coffee and home were inebriating her judgement. It was bursting at the seams, little by little, one by one and starvation. At times, she could feel her own heart leap up her throat only for her to swallow it down.

 

Jealousy never felt so draining and demanding, neither did envy.

 

This was a beast whose roars turned to murmurs only when she laid in bed at night thinking of a body that wasn’t hers as a mess trickled between her legs, a creature that only ever muted the time they kissed and then grew stronger.

 

Akechi wondered what she could do to kill it. Pulling away would starve it, starvation led to desperation and the most dangerous things were those that feared. But indulging it was intoxication, a different kind of death that felt like a lullaby and hellfire.

 

“You’re spacing out again.”

 

The coffee cup stood innocently white in front of the detective and Kurusu sat to her immediate left.

 

Feelings were the most blinding of turmoils.

 

“There’s a lot to think about.”

 

Kurusu raised an eyebrow before leaning back with a yawn. Akechi could see her leg- a leg from a pair that were obscenely spread as she sat on the chair- hopping up and down like a nervous tick as the thief stared off into the arrangement of coffee beans on the wall.

 

Guard lowered and weakened in only ways Cafe Leblanc could, Akechi didn’t notice how obviously her eyes trailed a blazing path up and down Kurusu’s thighs. Neither did she notice the way her black leather covered fingers twitched around the porcelain cup. But she recognized the desire that reared its ugly head, the need to possess something that could never be hers, the need to clutch at skin and bury herself and want in skin that wasn’t hers.

 

“Are you still dizzy?”

 

The voice from the Metaverse, the one that haunted her dreams like a curse, floated around the cafe. Akechi looked up to find Kurusu smirking at her, teeth reflecting the dull light sharply and brightly. Even so, the detective couldn’t see the thief’s eyes- the glare of the glasses turned them to mirrors and in them she saw herself.

 

Ugly, greedy, hungry.

 

“Ah, could be.” She replied so slowly. There was no need to measure her words in that moment, Kurusu probably knew better than her what was going on through her veins like the roots of chocolate lilies.

 

Kurusu’s smirk widened, a trick of light making her jaw a feral maw, and she gestured to her room with a nod of her head as she rose to her feet. She didn’t wait for Akechi before heading up the stairs, didn’t spare the frozen girl a single glance as she ascended to her room with a step and sway, a dance belonging to Joker.

 

It didn’t make sense- Akira Kurusu was the one that dwelled Tokyo.

 

Akechi stared into the dark liquid in her cup. The low lighting of Leblanc and her currents thoughts making it black ooze in front of her. Innocently, contrasting against porcelain white, stood a cup of dark void and black holes.

 

She breathed in deeply, her ribs expanding and giving more space for the beast to pace in before cruelly ripping it away with a loud exhile of breath. Her bones fought against the creature and constricted its movements until there was no single inch left for it to move. Howling against the restraints, it rattled its cage.

 

Akechi stood up, her eyes leaving the void in her mug and reaching for her suitcase.

 

She walked out the door without looking back, even if each step felt like a struggle against the monster in her lungs.

 

In the end, she got home late, her legs weak.

 

* * *

 

What ifs haunted her whenever she would close her eyes.

 

What ifs of Crow soaring up and joining Kurusu atop the cafe, what ifs of what sight awaited her atop the stairs, what ifs that belonged in dreams that could certainly not have happened in real life, not to her, not for her- Akechi’s breathing picked up and she tried to dissimulate it.

 

The detective took in a sharp breath and corralled her racing thoughts away from Kurusu’s legs.

 

She already knew it was a futile attempt.

 

Unlike her, Crow savoured each and every opportunity she gets to ogle, and she hates her all the more for it and the images she imprinted in the back of her retinas. The light shows from the lit up casino floor highlighting the movements of her muscles in ways the Tokyo city lights never do.

 

The casino’s cacophony was nowhere near as deafening as Joker’s stalk.

 

* * *

 

It was never Joker in her bed-- in her head. It was only ever Akira Kurusu, nude and flaunting, pale and lovely, spread and wet on her tongue, under her palms and under Akechi’s body.

 

She would always chant and pray, “Kazuko.”

 

Murmurs louder than thunder, more striking than an electric shock and more addicting than the rush of battle and victory. The thought made Akechi sigh, it was a victory. It was domination, conquering and reaping the fruits a victor desired.

 

“Kazuko…”

 

Her name was a curse on the doppelganger’s tongue, disfigured and wrong because Akechi never heard the real one say it. Distortion worsened by never hearing Kurusu speak so lovingly and adoringly.

 

It still was the ringing of bells and the giggles of sirens.

 

“Kazuko...!”

 

In her dream, she tasted iron and noticed she sank her teeth too hard into the fake’s flesh. Pearls of red decorated Akira’s hip like a wolf’s bite, but she didn’t seem to mind.

 

Akira pushed Akechi’s head closer with a soft gasp and the detective wondered at what time the alarm will tear her away from the body that she should, wanted to, have.

 

* * *

 

Kurusu never questioned why she didn’t join her upstairs. Wasn’t one supposed to ask when someone left abruptly and without a word?  
  
Morgana sometimes glared at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. Akechi didn’t know why she cared anyway. She didn’t go to Leblanc and stayed until the night usurped blue skies to see her.

 

Akechi should stop doing it either way.

 

Whenever she stayed too late, so late the Boss would leave and Kurusu would entrust Morgana to him, she would learn of new dulcet tones the thief’s voice could sing. Kurusu would teach her hospitality without taking a break to change out of her school uniform and the beast in Akechi, the beast that took control of her eyes when she donned Crow and let them roam preened at the attention.

 

Crow preened at the attention too.

 

“You ok?”

 

Akechi stared at her clenched fists on the counter. All she’s been doing was starving a creature she didn’t understand and it revolted with more ferocity with the passing of time.

 

“I must admit I’m conflicted.”

 

Akira hummed a note like a siren’s luring to the sea shores. The noise of the coffee machine resembled steamboats and for a second she let the monster drown.

It broke the water’s surface with a vengeance and the clinging of porcelain on porcelain as a cup of coffee was placed in front of the detective.

 

“Don’t let it eat you alive.” Akechi met Kurusu’s eyes and once more the glare of the dim light obscured them. The thief tipped her head forward and leaned her elbows on the counter. “If you ever need me...”

 

An excellent choice of words, Akechi squirmed in her sit and crossed her legs tightly.

 

“It’s very kind of you to offer.”

 

“Don’t mention it.”

 

Maybe it was a trick of her exhausted mind coupled with the growls of the creature inside of her guts, but the words sounded like Joker’s purr. Akechi’s eyes widened and her head snapped up to meet Kurusu’s stare.

 

Suddenly, she was caught in a storm and the wind was blowing at her back, ordering her to stand up. They were icy against her, intensified when Kurusu turned and walked up the stairs to her room with Joker’s prowl. It was the very same dance from the day she gestured upstairs with a nod of her head.

 

The beast salivated in her mouth and Crow shook in the cage of her mind.

 

Once Kurusu was out of sight- but never out of mind, she was a virus, an infection and a seemingly terminal disease- and the storm calmed enough to unfreeze Akechi’s limbs, she turned to face her cup once more.

 

The cup held sea depths and Kurusu’s hum and Joker’s smirks ghosted the shell of the detective’s ears at the beast’s beg and to Crow’s delight. With a deep breath, Akechi took the cup in her hand and squeezed her thighs together tighter.

 

The dark liquid caught the reflection of the ceiling lamp. Akechi thought in a moment of clarity, Kurusu was Joker, Joker was Kurusu.

 

Crow was the one that kissed Joker, Akira, and Crow was Akechi just as much as Akechi was Crow.

 

The coffee was still warm in the cup, but Akechi downed it with a swing before rising to her feet too fast. Her chair almost fell back, making a loud noise as it regained its balance. Akechi didn’t hear it though, the sound overshadowed by a beast between her lungs and a burning on her skin. Her lips felt soaked in magma.

 

The monster inside of her impeded and overpowered any thoughts of running away from crossing her mind with sheer starvation borne desperation. She ran upstairs to follow the thief.

 

When she arrived at the top of the stairs, she found Kurusu lying back on her bed playing with her phone nonchalantly. Her uniform covered her still, the apron thrown somewhere on the floor and her tights missing from her legs. As she lied back, the cloth did little to hide the curves of her body and Akechi’s throat tightened.

 

Kurusu still didn’t look at her as her legs slid against one another like the claws of a praying mantis. The skirt hitched up an inch higher, the fabric caressing skin as it slid down, and the thief’s legs parted slightly.

 

“Are you just going to watch?”

 

“Is that an option?”

 

Kurusu shot her a questioning look and put her phone down on the windowsill. Her glasses followed suit and her thighs part a bit more. From her spot, Akechi could see Kurusu's underwear. It was a plain colour and she thought it a waste.

 

"Maybe I won't give you any and just torture you."

 

The taunt got the detective's frozen legs to advance forward. When she reached the bed, she sat gracefully and crossed her legs. Left over right, poised dainty and perfect. Immediately as she found a comfortable position, Akechi twisted her torso and pinned Kurusu to the bed by her shoulders.

 

"I would find that disagreeable."

 

"Cool, I would too." The thief’s left hand placed itself atop Akechi’s knee and caressed up her leg. Reaching the hem of her skirt, it played with the fabric. “Even though you would deserve it- you did torture me, y’know.”

 

The beast rammed its head against the cage of her ribs, slamming against her lungs and making it harder to breathe, and an epiphany of the nature of the creature dawned on Akechi. There wasn’t enough time to think about it, Kurusu’s hand slid up to her waist and skittered along the line of her spine to reach the nape of her neck and pulled down.

 

Kurusu kissed her with soft lips and addicting poison, Akechi kissed her with a sharp tongue and sharper teeth.

 

Without the dreamy hold of the Metaverse, the pressing of mouth felt too real and Akechi drank the sigh Kurusu gifted to her mouth. She drank and gulped down all other noise breathed directly between her lips, deadly desire devouring all that was left defenseless before it. Breathing was a commodity, a luxury, and not a necessity like the gulps of air Kurusu was kind enough to impart into her mouth- Akechi could drown like this.

 

She was. Kurusu pulled her head back by her hair.

 

“Breathe, Akechi.” At some point, Akechi wriggled herself to kneel over Kurusu from between her legs. “Hey, can I call you Kazuko?”

 

“Intimate. Getting ahead of ourselves, are we?” There was no bite behind those words, there never would be any no matter how hard she willed it. The beast took control of her lungs, her tongue, her teeth and her limbs. Her hands squeezed something soft and Akechi felt like she was melting in a dusty, shittily ventilated attic. Her fingers played with their hold.

 

Hearts were the most monstruous creatures of them all.

 

“Not at all- or are you telling me it’s your usual Saturday night to be between a girl’s legs as you fondle her breasts?”

 

Ah, Akechi found herself wanting to toy with them more.

 

“Not at all.”

 

“Then maybe we should make this our thing.”

 

Akechi blindly read with the palm of her hands Kurusu’s silhouette. Unbuttoning her blazer. She found her shirt was tucked in her skirt and she nudged it out and up. She pulled it as high as it could go, baring Kurusu’s bra. The fabric of her uniform shirt stuck, and only then does Akechi look at the suspenders holding up the skirt.

 

She stared intently at the small bow on the base of Kurusu’s neck that wasn’t echoed between her breasts. Kurusu’s bra was awfully uncute. It deserved to be forgotten on the floor.

 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

 

At her words, Kurusu snickered while gesturing at their position and did nothing to shrug off the suspenders. Akechi decided to leave them on too.

 

“Stop glaring at my bra,” Kurusu laughed.

 

The detective rubbed her sides with gloved hands, wondered briefly if the leather felt nice or if Kurusu was just that ticklish due to the way she squirmed. Her thumbs slipped between the suspenders and skin to rub circles up and down. From the hem of her skirt to the bottom wiring of her bra as four pairs of fingers clawed lightly with the motion.

 

“It’s ugly.”

 

Kurusu just laughed harder at that and arched her back, inviting Akechi to unhook the _offending_ clothing article. She did just that, but the bra straps were kept on Kurusu’s shoulders by the shirt and suspenders, and Akechi huffed. The thief didn’t seem to care about her annoyance and she brought Akechi’s gloved hands to her lips.

 

She kissed the knuckles first and then proceeded to bite the tip of her gloved fingers, one by one, to take the leather gloves off.

 

Akechi thought the sight of her mouth moving more arousing than her action, until it occurred to her its implications. She flushed, a trembling heat spreading from her bone marrow to her muscles and organs like a viral infection.

 

When the gloves fell off, they framed Kurusu’s neck between twin black leather shapes and faded into the dark curls of her hair. The thief kissed her knuckles again, only this time bringing them to her chest after they’ve greeted her lips. Upon contact, Kurusu gasped.

 

“Cold.” She knew she wouldn’t get a reply so she didn’t wait for one. Instead, she arched her spine slightly, offering her chest to the detective’s inquisitive hands with a content sigh. “Whatever, they’ll warm up soon enough.”

 

Akechi only half listened and hummed in answer. The slowly hardening nubs far more interesting than the current temperature of her fingers if one were to ask her. Besides, she figured Kurusu enjoyed it- her head flat against the pillow and expression relaxed as Akechi fondled her.

 

Kurusu was so damningly pretty. Akechi was cursed, and it was her weakness. She always fell to her knees when the spells of darkness and rot hit her when she donned Crow, when she donned Robin Hood as she did now. Funny, she thought humourlessly, she was on her knees above Kurusu and the spell that made her heart want, starve, desire, fortified and spread like a parasite eating away at her guts.

 

Hungry, Akechi’s heart was hungry and battling away at her throat, fighting against the prison bars of her teeth. If it escaped, it meant death and Akechi did the only thing she could think of. She squeezed Kurusu’s left breast one last time and descended her mouth to it under the thief’s watchful gaze.

 

She showered it with kisses and nips, flicked the tongue against the flesh in a parody of a heart to heart between a beast and a feast. Like in her dreams, her tongue was a knife cutting away the flesh protecting Kurusu’s heart from her. Unlike her dreams, she devoured. Her ears filled with the ringing of Kurusu’s moans, reverberations from her tympan down her spine as she wolfed down gracelessly at Kurusu’s chest, sternum and ribs, pulling aside the suspenders when needed only to let them snap back into place and cause the girl- woman, in this situation they were both women- below her to quiver.

 

Akechi’s carefully crafted image had been forgotten in Mementos’ lower floors days ago and the raw creature behind the mask snatched by a thief and cradled lovingly in the valley of her breasts. The phantom thief’s hands played along her back, in the forest of her hair, with dexterity and nimbleness that could only belong to fingers which danced and skimmed along a blade’s edge.

 

The detective’s ribbon was crooked on her neck, her blazer and button up shirt wide open by hands that knew to steal too well.

 

“Kazuko...”

 

Akechi didn’t know she herself could growl like that. The noise taking Kurusu by surprise, her body blowing down all its barriers as it curved upwards and her legs twitched and snaked and curled around Akechi’s.

 

Ah, she had been so focused in her feasting desire she forgot- Kurusu was a siren, a predator herself.

 

Her form shaped into a snare, her soft moans a low melody to ward away Akechi’s inhibitions, and Akechi could only think of one thing she’d rather do, of one place she’d rather be.

 

Her heart had been eating so well it almost slipped past it to drink.

 

With a low moan of her own, Akechi pulled away from Kurusu’s torso and brought their mouths together with a movement that could only be described by a bird of prey’s swooping. It made Kurusu chuckle, the vibrations guided by her spine down her core and making Akechi twitch.

 

Kurusu caressed Akechi over her bra, hand slipping between the fabric and skin to entertain itself. The detective shivered noticeably, a hiss escaping her, and Kurusu’s lips curved upwards against her mouth.

 

She knew that under her lips, Joker’s razor sharp grin could be found. Akechi licked the blade with more fervor and sank her teeth into it. Her saliva must have been acid and her tongue its vector since the steel melted and opened under the detective. Her fingers curled and uncurled, the energy under her digits becoming unbearable and they traveled down Kurusu’s stomach, over the fabric of her skirt and sank like fangs onto the meat of the inside of her thighs.

 

Kurusu buckled under her. Benevolently, Akechi pressed one of her knee in the junction of her legs and drank the small giggle Kurusu let out against her ravaging tongue as she started grinding slowly.

 

Pulling back far enough, Akechi sneered against Kurusu’s wanting mouth, “You’re a mess.” She pressed her harder against her thigh, hands running up and down welcoming thighs and leaving behind scratches. They might as well have been naked waist down, the layers of fabric between Akechi’s thigh and Kurusu’s intimacy doing nothing to hold back the moisture secreted.

 

Kurusu smirked dangerously and gyrated her hips in a motion so fluid that Akechi could call her sin incarnated.

 

Her nails must have bitten skin too forcefully, Kurusu gasped under her in surprise and Akechi felt a small drop on her index. The thief’s thigh lied in a poor mockery of submission under her while the hand not occupied on the detective’s chest pilgrimed under Akechi’s skirt. But the thief only teased her, digits trailing up and down slowly against her slit and never touching concretely the place that begged for it the most. “You aren’t much better.”

 

Akechi sank her canines into Kurusu’s bruised lower lip and sucked the molten iron. It burned her throat, her trachea and stomach, and finally, finally, Akechi was melting into Kurusu. She mirrored the thief then, her own fingers slipping under the soiled fabric of Kurusu’s underwear and brushing against the wet heat.

 

“Oh.”

 

Akechi echoed the sound with a low whine, as she were answering to a howling moon, as if the fingers rubbing circles against Kurusu were on her instead. The creaking of the cafe joined in their harmony like reverberations of their touches bleeding into the atmosphere around them. Steel met iron, bonded and cut.

 

Akechi could have puked her heart, then and there, into Kurusu’s awaiting teeth.

 

She didn’t though, she swallowed loudly. She still hungered, her mouth forming an ugly snarl and that provoked Kurusu to squirm under her fingers with a gaping mouth. Hurried, Kurusu removed her hands from Akechi, maneuvered them around the detective’s back and caressed her spine with claws.

 

On pure feral instinct, the very same she worked so hard to kill under plasticities for the public, Akechi traveled down the thief’s body and pinned her legs spread wide.

 

She looked up from between her thighs, eyes catching momentarily on the small black bow on the front of Kurusu’s underwear, and met Kurusu’s stare with a twin starving one.

 

“Do you want an invitation?”

 

Of course Kurusu would mock in such a situation.

 

Akechi ignored the jab, choosing instead to let go of her legs and rip off the barrier between her mouth and Kurusu’s intimacy. Smiling with too much teeth, the detective looked down upon her handiwork. A while back, she’d heard people say ripping the wrapping off of gifts was good luck.

 

It was a logic she couldn’t disprove at the moment, her desire heightening her senses but only focusing them on the thief and the smell, the sight of Kurusu on her back and vulnerable- Akechi brought her mouth to Kurusu with a moan and licked.

 

The reaction was immediate, Kurusu planted one of her hands on her thigh to hold it open while the other buried itself in Akechi’s hair and held her close. The detective would have scoffed had she not been so busy feeding the monster in her skin. As if she would even think of going anywhere at the moment, there was no need for the phantom thief to hold her down.

 

Akechi’s hand clutched Kurusu’s hip, the other one buried itself between her own folds as she devoured and took what she had been left wanting for too long. Messily, because beasts have no grace and that was what she truly was, Akechi feasted, her hair too undone and becoming a poor joke of the prim image she projected as Kurusu dripped down her lips and down her chin when she was too slow to drink her all.

 

Her tongue spread the thief open, or the thief welcomed her, at that point it was the same thing in Akechi’s head and a dance that could only be done between the two of them. It didn’t matter at that point, she pulled away and replaced her tongue with her free hand as she gulped air. Akechi felt like a drowning woman, but her gourmandise got the best of her and she went down once more under the guidance of Kurusu’s hand.

 

Her clothes though disheveled and open, constricted her breathing and she wanted to burn them off with the heat scorching her insides and taunting the beast into action.

 

Was it really a beast when it starved and devoured so much reckless abandon?

 

Her eyes met Kurusu as she worked her fingers in and out of her in synchronization with her lapping tongue, and she knew for certain that it was a devil curse-borne that swayed her so. With vengeance, she brushed her teeth against the tender flesh without breaking eye contact and was treated to the sight of Kurusu’s carnal red mouth falling open as she arched her back and delivered more of herself to Akechi’s ministration.

 

“Kazuko!”

 

Desire, a venomous snake coils in her spine.

 

What gave her the right to beckon her so sweetly when she was already there, kneeling, needy with a hand between her own damned legs as she devoured her?

 

But the devil in her flesh, in her heart, rejoiced with a crow’s cheering and Akechi hoped that it would infect Kurusu as badly as it had her. Kurusu’s fingers pulled at her hair, her core trembling around her fingers and milking them as if they had anything to nurture her with other than her own bones and meat.

 

She would give them to her, she would pour herself into her, if only she’d ask.

 

Between the taste on her tongue, the feel of being inside Kurusu’s body even if only by a tiny fraction and her own fingers working herself, she found herself groaning and growling. The walls and face she crafted for the public forgotten as she abandoned herself into carnal desire and pleasure that she thought would only come in dreams.

 

Desire, a double edged blade sank into her, hopefully using her tongue to penetrate Kurusu.

 

Maybe it did, Kurusu let out a broken siren song as both her hands buried themselves in Akechi’s hair and her twitching thighs squeezed her head, heated walls pulling her fingers deeper and deeper in as they pulsed-

 

Desire, a predator with a pretty name swallowed her whole.

 

Kurusu brought Akechi down with her, she gasped against the thief’s clit as her fingers escorted the two of them through their orgasm.

 

As they float in euphoria, Kurusu guided her up her body and held her tight. It felt nice, Akechi thought she could sleep peacefully there for once despite the loud beating of her heart. Kurusu would let her, she was playing with her hair and mending her body to her side.

 

Dexterous hands slipped her blazer and shirt off her shoulder, and Kurusu whispered into her ear, “Want me to return the favour now or…?”

 

She didn’t offer much of a fair choice, arm snaking between their bodies and pulling at the band of her underwear. A small thread of yearning knotted up in her throat as her minotaur of a heart found a way out of its prison anew, choking the detective as she rid herself of her panties and discarded them on the floor just as Kurusu rid herself of her blazer and slipped down her suspenders.

 

She’ll regret throwing them on the attic floor later, for now she straddled Kurusu who welcomed her with open arms. It would be nice to stay with, to be surrounded by Kurusu until morning came.

 

She didn’t though, she took the last train home after bidding goodnight to the thief whose phantom touch followed her home.


End file.
